“You hung out here a lot, huh?”
I look around at a couple of dust-covered lanterns that were abandoned long ago. There are even a couple of mine carts up here, as well as some random items: a notebook, a hat. There’s a backpack against one wall that probably belonged to a highschooler who came down here to escape from their parents.
“Where did it happen?” I ask.
I don’t want to.
It’s a question that can’t possibly have a good answer, but that’s where we have to start.
“I haven’t been down here,” he says. “I wasn’t here when it happened. I read the reports. They all said he was shot by the first mine cart.”
“That’s there,” I point to it. It’s knocked on its side.
I feel a little sick as we walk over to it. I can tell that most of the blood was cleaned up, but there’s still evidence that Sammy died here. The side of the mine cart is stained from his body, and I don’t think any amount of scrubbing would get rid of that. I reach for Neil’s hand and squeeze it, silently letting him know that I’m here for him.
“It’s okay,” he says.
“No, it’s not.”
There are marks in the dirt where the body was dragged away by the paramedics or emergency team, as well as a million sets of footprints. A lot of people came down here to look for evidence. What are the chances of us finding anything at all?
I have to think like a detective though. I have to think like a criminal.
“If he was shot from here,” I say. “Then where did the killer stand?”
“He was talking to his dad when it happened.”
“They were fighting, right?”
“Arguing, yeah.”
“About you?”
“About Ted.”
“Because his dad didn’t want him to be gay.”
“Nobody wanted Sammy to be gay, love. Not the cheerleaders, not the jocks, and not his parents.”
“Ted didn’t care, though.”
“They weren’t together, but yeah. Ted didn’t care.”
“So Sammy was shot and his dad just pointed the finger at you.”
“I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sammy had mentioned to his dad that I was coming there. His dad told the police that he’d followed his son to find out who he was meeting. The fact that Sammy was gay was left off the police reports. They made it sound like I was going to sell him drugs.”
“But his dad never saw you.”
“Or anyone else.”
“Do you have any idea who else didn’t like him?”
Neil scratches his chin but shakes his head. He looks around the space, shining his flashlight here and there. There honestly aren’t a lot of hiding places here: some overturned mine carts, but that’s it. The space is pretty empty. It leads down deeper into the mine. I suppose someone could hide down there, but wouldn’t Sammy’s father have noticed them?
Why didn’t he see the killer?
“Walk me through what happened after Sammy was shot,” I say, curious. At this point, we’re talking about it analytically. I get the feeling that Neil is trying to disassociate so he can do the same thing.